Dirty Water
by vimber
Summary: A brighteyed girl arrives in Corus expecting to improve her fortunes, but she soon finds that the city and kingdom have fallen on evil times: Dark forces are trying to take over both the above and belowground kingships, and they'll stop at nothing.
1. Th' New Lass in Town

A/N: I don't own Tamora Pierce's characters, settings or other plot elements!

"Well, here we are," came the gruff voice of the merchant who owned the cart in which Landry Kemper had hitched a ride. "The gates of Corus are just ahead."

Landry hopped out of the back of the wagon and, stretching, turned around to look at the city. Her mouth fell open and, pausing in mid- stretch, she sat heavily on the ground.

The cart had stopped on a hilltop above the city. Before her, Corus lay glittering like a spread of precious jewels. Through the center ran the River, and far away, across the menagerie of shops and taverns and homes and temples, stood the Royal Palace, its turrets shining, dazzling in the morning sun. An endless stream of horses, carts, and people flowed into and out of the city, the circulating through its streets.

Landry caught her breath and stood, adjusting her near-empty pack. She was a tall and slender, sporting a long dark-brown braid and bright green eyes contrasting sharply with her darkly tanned skin. She wore brown trousers and a loose blue shirt, belted around her waist with a length of rope. A smile lit her features; in her 17 years, she had never seen such a sight. She looked around at the people hurrying past her on their way into Corus for market day, then stepped forward and became one with the crowd.

The city was as fascinating up close as it had been from far away. All around her were people of every variety. Plump women hurried from shop to shop and stall to stall; merchants declaimed their wares; licentiously dressed women lurked in doorways, smiling and winking. Fine-looking gentlemen and beautifully dressed ladies rode above the crowd while children in rags ran underfoot.

The first thing Landry needed was to get a bite to eat, and then she would find a place to stay. She stopped at a street vendor's cart and ordered a sausage on a bun.

"There ye go, miss," he said, handing over her order with a smile.

She smiled back. "Excuse me, but I'd like to ask you-where around here can I find lodgings for a time?" she asked.

As the vendor opened his mouth to answer, a tall, sinewy figure leaned over her shoulder. "I'd try the Dancing Dove m'self, miss," said a husky male voice close to her ear, and a crumpled paper was shoved into her empty hand.

Landry spun around to find, in typical storybook fashion, nobody there. Her mysterious advisor had disappeared into the crowd. She turned back to the vendor with a look of astonishment, but he was already busy with his next customer.

Landry sighed, took a bite of her sausage and a look at the paper, and moved back into the throng.

An hour later, after a few inquiries as to the names of streets and one or two wrong turns, Landry arrived at the Dancing Dove. She studied the sign for a moment before walking in and finding a seat at the bar.

"What'll it be, miss?" winked the busty barmaid.

"Ah-ahm-just some lemonade, please, ma'am," Landry stuttered.

"Aww, won't ye have nothin' stronger?" came the mysterious husky voice inches above her ear.

Landry turned quickly to find the stranger from the sausage stand climbing onto the stool beside her. The barmaid nodded respectfully and set a tankard of ale before him, and he returned the nod. The man was tall and lean, blue-eyed and heavy-browed, with a head full of messy brown hair cut about to his ears. His features were somehow striking without being unusual, aside from a rather long chin above which his mouth was curved upward in a slight smile. She guessed he was close to 40.

Landry looked sideways at him as she took her lemonade. She was naturally suspicious of strangers taking any interest in her, but then, this could be an opening into some sort of work and society in this new city.

She turned towards the man to find him grinning widely at her. He offered a hand. "I'm Ruil," he nodded. "Welcome to Corus."

She took his hand and, smiling, shook it. "I'm Landry. Pleased to meet you-I think!"

He chuckled. "Wise of ye to be cautious, for ye may yet be sorry." He took a long sip of his ale. "So what bringeth a young lassie such as yerself to the big city all alone?"

"I'm not that young," she exclaimed, making a face. "Looking for work," she added.

"Aye," he agreed, taking another swig of ale. "One of those necessary evils, is work," he nodded, grinning.

"For some," laughed the barmaid.

"So what do you do here?" Landry asked Ruil.

"Oh, I manage t' scrape t'gether a living doin'-odd jobs," he said with a wink at the barmaid.

"I-see." Landry wasn't sure what to make of this. It sounded a bit suspect, especially with that wink at the end. She looked up at the barmaid.

"Aye, he scrapes together quite a living, he do," the woman grinned.

Landry looked at him sharply. "What do you really do?"

He laughed. "Ye'll find out, miss, if ye stick around long enough." He drained the rest of his ale. "Care to go for a walk, lassie?"

"Well-actually, I was coming here for a room-"

"O' course! Come, I'll have a word with ol' Saturn and we'll fix ye up in a jiffy."


	2. Quite a Walk

Disclaimer: I don't own Tortall or any of the characters or places that Tamora Pierce thought up.

Landry took an immediate liking to Saturn, the old man who managed the day-to-day business at the Dancing Dove. He led her up to her rooms, which were simply but adequately furnished, and gave her the key. She left her pack on the bed and hurried back downstairs, where Ruil was waiting. It was an hour before noon.

"Ready for that walk, lass?" he asked.

She nodded, and they left the inn.

The day was beautiful. Typical of a late-summer day in the Tortallan capital, the temperature was warm and the air was saturated with humidity due to the proximity of the River; but the sky was bright blue and the colors of the marketplace still dazzled Landry. People were everywhere, and Ruil seemed to know everyone in town. Not two minutes went by without him exchanging nods with a passerby.

"So, lass, what _is_ a pretty young girl like yourself doing all alone in th' big city? 'Tis a dangerous place, y'know." He grinned devilishly.

Landry couldn't help but grin back. She suspected -- strongly -- that he was one of the dangerous elements, but she liked him in spite of -- well -- in spite of herself.

"I'm not that young," she insisted, with the face of one who has just been told something that she hears too often. "I'm seventeen!" At the amused look on his face, she added, laughingly, "Well, so I am young, but since then was that an error?"

_She's 15 if she's a day_, Ruil thought. "And so you're looking for work?" he chuckled.

"I just -- I needed a change."

"Aye," he said, and grinned knowingly. "I think I can find some profitable work for a seventeen-year-old." He winked.

She made a face. "You still haven't told me of your business," she accused lightly, smiling.

"I told you, lass, you'll find out in time," he tugged playfully at her braid. "I tell ye, though, business has been a deal rougher since King Roald died."

Landry's face grew serious, and she looked up at Ruil. "What do you know about that?" she asked.

"I know as much as the next man, m'girl, and probably no more than you," he answered casually. "Progress was just getting under way earlier this summer, when he was surprised by a band of unidentified, well-organized attackers at dawn, archers all. They picked off th' King and several key officials. Meanwhile, an arsonist set fire t' the pages and squires' wing at the Palace, where the King's two middle sons were sleepin'. Edgar's body was ne'er found an' Theo died a few days later. Roald's daughters both disappeared, the younger, Alyce, from the convent and th' elder, Kathryn, from her late mother's home fief of Kilsbye where she'd been overseein' the raising of her two youngest brothers, Lance and Fin, since her mother died in childbirth six months ago. The youngest boy disappeared with her, and the other died a few days later along with most of the fief's other inhabitants as a result of what has recently been confirmed as poisoned water. Alyce's body was found the next day by a patrol out o' Trebond. The eldest brothers, twins Erik and Land, both knights and fairly green, barely escaped a whirlwind of magical origin on the road to Naxen. Land's havin' a long talk with the Dark God, and there's no tellin' what the result will be."

Landry nodded. "And this had a major impact on a thief?"

He laughed. "So you figured me out, did ye? Took you long enough, it did. But you know, lassie, such instability is felt in every trade. Erik claims the crown, but Land is the elder of the twins; and their sister Kathryn older than either--the new laws say the crown goes to her. As she be missing at this time, some are hesitant to acknowledge any claim to the crown, particularly with Land's fate uncertain. Of eight royal children, only those two are known to be among th' living; but 'til the bodies of Kathryn and Fin are found, they will not be grouped with the dead."

Landry nodded as Ruil continued. "And there is more to th' story than that, lass. About the same time, an insurgency occurred here in the underworld of Corus. Keeps busy those loyal to the Rogue."

"The Rogue?" she looked up sharply.

"Aye, lass."

"Tell me more."

"The Rogue, lass--" Ruil began. Suddenly he stopped and turned looked around quickly. He ducked sideways into a building, pulling Landry after him. "Come, lass!" he whispered fiercely.

"Wha-?" she panted as she followed him at a run up a flight of stairs. She heard something whiz past her ear, then a loud thump, and saw a shuriken embedded in the wall where her head had been two seconds before.

They reached the roof. They were cornered. No other buildings were close enough to provide a viable escape route. Ruil pulled two knives from their hiding places in his clothes and looked at Landry. "Know how to use one o' these, m'girl?"

"Can't say I do."

A third knife appeared in his hand. He handed it to her. "Do the best ye can, lassie."


	3. Orientation

Disclaimer: I don't own any of Tamora Pierce's places or characters.

The three attackers appeared through the trapdoor to the roof, brandishing knives. Their faces were deadly serious as they advanced.

The fight was a blur for Landry. She lost her knife in an attacker's liver near the beginning, but was rapped on the temple by the hilt of another's knife as she watched her quarry fall. She fell to the ground, unconscious.

Ruil took out the remaining two attackers. He looked around quickly, decided the danger was over, and hurried to Landry's side. She was breathing and her only visible wound was a short, shallow cut on her left forearm. Ruil knelt beside the closest attacker and examined the man's left collarbone. Making a face at what he found there, he returned to Landry, shouldered the girl, and carried her back to the Dancing Dove.

Landry awoke, dazed, and wondered where she was. As she stirred, a pretty, blue-eyed face, framed in curly red hair, moved into her field of vision. Landry closed her eyes and groaned, and when she opened them again the pretty face had been replaced by Ruil's concerned one.

He touched her hand. "Landry?"

She struggled into a sitting position, realized with relief that she was in her new room at the Dancing Dove. "I'm fine," she assured him. "How're you?"

"Peachy, lass, I'm peachy."

"What time is it?"

"Almost eleven in th' evenin'."

"Who is that?" She indicated the redhead.

"This," he replied hugging the woman around her shoulders, "is my sister Andrey." The woman seemed to be a year or two older than Ruil. "She's a healer here in town and engages in the ever-despicable practice of honest work." He grinned.

Andrey laughed and pushed her brother away from her playfully. "Good to meet you, Landry. I think my brother overreacted to your injuries-- you'll be fine." Landry noted with some curiosity that her voice carried a measure less of the city dialect than Ruil's did. "I've got to be getting back to my family. Good evening, Landry, goodbye, brother." She hugged him and left the room.

Landry sighed and looked at Ruil questioningly.

"I'm sorry, lass. 'Twas midday, and I didn't realize they'd-" He shrugged regretfully.

Landry laughed. "Well, it was a first, anyway," she grinned. "Interesting experience."

"So you've never fought with knives before?" She shook her head. "With anything?"

"Only my bare fists." Her grin widened.

"Aha, I see." He paused. "Bare hands are a handy thing to kill with, lass, but if you like I'll teach you a weapon or two. Might be handy to know, particularly if you plan on knowing folks like myself."

"Apparently so. I'd be happy to learn."

"Good," he nodded. "Then we'll start tomorrow. I've got t' head downstairs, lass. I'd love for ye to come along -- if you're up to it."

"Of course," she answered. She looked down at her clothes -- she was wearing a nightgown that she was sure wasn't hers. "Just give me a minute to change."

"Aye," grinned Ruil, and he hurried from the room.

Landry descended the staircase wearing a pretty jade-green dress that set off her eyes perfectly. She scanned the room for Ruil; he saw her first and shouted from a big chair against the far wall where he sat surrounded by men laughing and sipping their ale. She hurried over.

"Ye're lookin' fancy, lass," Ruil smiled. "What's the occasion?"

Landry made a face. "I need to shop. This is the only spare thing I have."

Ruil nodded, "We'll -- shop --" he grinned his wide, toothy grin, "in th' morning, lass." He looked at the men around him. There were eight or so, and they varied in age from nineteen to forty. "This 'ere, lads, is Landry," he said, "and these men, Landry, are my colleagues." He went around the table and introduced them: Smarty, Demus, Heliotrope, Joseph, Harkless, Fallow, Matthis, and Stamps.

"Ale, Landry?" offered Joseph, the youngest of the men.

"No, thank you," she laughed.

A few men raised eyebrows at this, and a few more grinned, and Joseph called for Rosie the barmaid to send over a mug of lemonade.

Landry took the empty chair between Stamps and Matthis as Ruil called for the men's attention.

"Friends an' colleagues," he said, "you are all aware of the situation with our beloved Kilmeade." The sarcasm was obvious here.

"Aye, Majesty," came the chorus. Landry looked up sharply, studying Ruil. He grinned at her and raised his eyebrows before continuing.

"About midday today, as m' lass Landry here was accompanying me on a nice companionable stroll through th' city, we were attacked by three men bearing shurikens and knives. We escaped, of course. The men bore Kilmeade's mark."

There were a few seconds of quiet at the table as the men exchanged glances. Around them, business at the Dancing Dove continued at its customary roar.

"Gettin' bold, they are, attackin' in broad daylight," commented Demus, a large, muscular, man in his thirties with close-cropped blond hair.

"An' attackin' a strange lass alongside ye," added Harkless, a twenty- something man with brown hair, blue eyes, and deceptively ordinary facial features. He seemed offended at the thought that they would commit such a travesty of manners.

"Aye, well, we knew they were desperate," agreed Smarty, a slim, sly- looking young fellow with dark hair and eyes. "Attacking you with the girl -- not much of a surprise -- but risking exposure by attacking during the day -- that's something different."

"Aye," agreed Ruil. "I wanted to update ye on this situation and alert ye to th' danger." He looked around at his lieutenants. "Most of ye are known by that scheming bastard to be close to me, so I should be more careful than usual, were I thee."

The men nodded and voiced their agreement.

Ruil stood. "Now go and do what you're best at, men," he smiled and nodded, and the men dispersed.

He sat and looked around to find Landry looking at him. "Well?" he asked.

"So not only are you a thief, you're their king?" she asked, raising her right brow.

"For now," he said modestly. "Though, as ye may have figured out by now, another is after the job."

"How does one attain such a job?"

"A fair fight, usually. This one's sneaky, underhanded even in a world of crooks. And I suspect he has equally unsavory friends in -- high places."

Landry sighed. "Ruil, do you take every strange young girl you meet into your confidence, introduce her to your most trusted comrades, and discuss with her another's efforts to usurp your throne, such as it is?"

Ruil laughed. "That would make me a poor king, indeed, hey, dearie? Nay, you're the exception."

"Why?"

Ruil shrugged nonchalantly. "I like you," he said, peering into her green eyes with the light of honesty in his.

Landry gazed levelly at him and made a face. "Well, okay," she agreed.

Landry retired soon after the meeting, complaining of a headache. Ruil bade her goodnight and promised to find her in the morning for training and -- shopping.

He mingled with his people in the Dancing Dove, thinking thoughts of many things. There was Landry. She was a pretty lass. A priestess had come to him with a prophecy one night in May, that when the summer was old and the roads were dangerous he would find his greatest ally in a green-eyed girl from afar with a clear voice and a ready laugh. He had known the instant he heard her voice, as she spoke with the street vendor, that she was the lass he was looking for.

And he needed allies. Boy did he need allies. This Kilmeade's methods were different; they stank of interference by nobles. And though Ruil held the loyalty of most of the city's people (for now), nobles had money and loyalty was only one of the many things money could buy. And few nobles understood the city's rules.

Nobles -- they were in a mess just now, themselves. Ruil had the beginnings of a theory in his head, though he had yet to voice it to anyone. This Kilmeade -- he had appeared just days before the amazingly simultaneous deaths and disappearances of most of the royal family. Some whispered that Erik was behind the deaths and disappearances of his siblings, but Ruil wasn't so sure. He needed to take action, and soon-but he couldn't take action without more information. And information was slow just now.

Ruil thought of his sister, of his young nieces and nephew, sleeping contentedly at this hour, safe, for now, in their home across town.

He bid goodnight to Saturn and his favorite barmaids and went to bed.


	4. The Man Behind it All

•••Disclaimer: I don't own any of Tamora Pierce's characters, settings or other plot elements.•••

Erik of Conte paced back and forth in the spacious office adjoining his bedroom, running his long fingers through his dark hair. It was past midnight, but he could not sleep.

A few weeks ago, this had been his father's office, but that had all changed when King Roald was picked off by archers during Progress.

It should be Kathryn's office now, but Erik didn't know if she was even alive. He had wanted to wait for the air to clear, to give her time to make her way home. Messengers had been sent to her after the King's death, but Erik didn't know if they had made it to Kilsbye before--Oh gods, what had happened at Kilsbye?

Erik hadn't wanted the throne, not yet, but Lord Darryn had told him he must take it, to hold the country together, and surely Lord Darryn, his father's only remaining advisor, knew more than Erik, barely a year into his knighthood. Thank the gods Lord Darryn had stayed in Corus during Progress.

So now Erik was acting as King, only barely, and he barely had time to visit his twin, who was right at death's door, or look for Kathryn or Edgar or Fin, who he hoped desparately were still, somehow, alive.

A knock sounded at the chamber's outer door, and Lord Darryn entered before Erik could answer.

"Your Majesty," Lord Darryn began, and Erik wondered why his bow was so much more casual than the bows Lord Darryn had given his father. "Your Majesty, you should be asleep," he said sternly.

"I--!" Erik began, but Lord Darryn interrupted.

"Since you are awake, I want to bring this to your attention. It needs your signature right away. There is no need to read over it. It will only bore you."

_Father would never have signed a grocery list without reading it through ten times_, Erik thought.

He took the paper from Lord Darryn and began reading, not daring to glance at the lord's face. Truth to tell, he was a little _scared_ of Lord Darryn--though he couldn't say why.

"This is a warrant!" Erik exclaimed. "For the arrest of Ruil Carpenter!"

"Naturally," Lord Darryn said in his smoothest voice.

Erik wondered why he had never noticed that hungry gleam in Lord Darryn's green eyes before.

"A man in your position should know very well that I cannot sign this warrant!"

"To the contrary," Lord Darryn crooned. "A man in my position knows that you _must_ sign this warrant."

"I will not!" Erik clenched his fists and his teeth. "This--this would upset the whole balance of the city. Surely you know that. Ruil Carpenter has never caused us problems and has kept the peace in Corus better than any since George Cooper! I will not sign it."

"Crime has gone up in recent weeks, your Majesty." Lord Darryn's manner was as cool and smooth as ever. "Surely _you_ have notic--"

Erik's sword was out of its sheath and at Lord Darryn's neck before the lord could finish his sentence. His voice, when he spoke, was cold and even.

"Yes, I have noticed. I have noticed a few things over the past few weeks, and I do not think Ruil Carpenter is behind any of them. So kindly don't bring my family into this, or you may find that I no longer need your advice."

Lord Darryn seemed shaken a little, Erik thought. He sheathed his sword, turned, and walked across the room to his desk.

When Erik turned around, Lord Darryn had regained his cool. In fact, he was grinning.

"Your Majesty," he sneered, "you do not have to sign this warrant, it is true. But you will sign it, if you want any chance of seeing any of your precious _family_ alive again."

The atmosphere of the room became colder than the highest mountains of Scanra.

"What do you mean?"

"I _mean_ what I said."

"I will tell the whole court--where will you be then?"

"I suppose I will be at your brother's funeral," Lord Darryn said. An image appeared in the air in front of Erik, of his brother on the bed where he lay wasting. A faint, sickly green glow hung around Land. Erik did not have the Gift, but he had heard Lord Darryn's Gift glowed some such color--that it had once been a beautiful emerald, but for some reason had faded to this shade.

Erik's face twisted in horror.

"Yes," grinned Lord Darryn wickedly, "I hold the key to your brother's health. I did not wish you to know it; things would have been much more pleasant all around if you had gone on praying and I had gone on as a simple advisor. But now, I am afraid I will have to have a little more--hmm--sway--in your decisions, eh?"

Erik felt like he was going to vomit. His father trusted Lord Darryn. Lord Darryn had stayed in Corus during Progress. The attacks during progress--Lord Darryn--that sickly green color hovering around his comatose brother--his head was spinning--he signed the warrant--he vomited on Lord Darryn's plush purple slippers.

Lord Darryn was grimacing when Erik looked up weakly at him, but he looked pleased nevertheless.

"I will send a servant to clean up the mess, and tell the kitchens that you request nothing but bread and soup for your meals tomorrow," Lord Darryn said. He turned and marched, looking regal in spite of the mess on his slippers, out of Erik's chambers.

•••••••••••••••••••••

In the hallway outside "King" Erik's chambers, Lord Darryn gritted his teeth and kicked his soiled slippers at the nearest guard.

"Call servants to clean the King's chambers; his dinner did not agree with him," Lord Darryn ordered the guards. "Send someone to tell the kitchens His Majesty wishes nothing but bread and soup for a week."

"Very good, Lord," the guard nodded, scurrying off.

Lord Darryn had already forgotten the guard as he walked barefoot to his rooms. On any other occasion, he would have been indignant, but what were bare feet compared with the look on Erik's face and the immediate obedience his news had elicited? He could have danced down the hall, if he knew what it meant to dance for joy.

Of course, he had not meant to tell Erik of his involvement with Land's illness--or to give Erik any idea of his involvement with Tortall's recent misfortunes--not yet, anyway--but it didn't matter. Erik had always been the one tied to his mother's figurative apronstrings, and now he was, predictably, crazy with the desire to see the rest of his family, whoever might be left alive. It was fortunate that Land was the Gifted one--this spell wouldn't work on anybody without the Gift--because Land was far more independent and logical and would probably have chosen the integrity of the Kingdom over a brother's life.

But Lord Darryn's plan would work; he would be King of Tortall--once he found Kathryn and forced him to marry him. That slippery girl should already have been his wife, but somehow she was gone when his minions reached Kilsbye. But what chance did that pampered girl have alone in Tortall? She would be his within the month.

Lord Darryn laughed, and the sound disturbed a teenaged girl dusting a statue in a nearby alcove. She jumped and stared, wide-eyed, at Lord Darryn.

"What are you staring at?" he asked her. "Are you scared? I'll show you what it means to be scared."

She began crying as he pulled up her skirt, put a hand over her mouth and shoved her deeper into the alcove.


	5. A Princess in the Forest

••Disclaimer: I don't own Tamora Pierce's characters, settings or other plot elements!

A/N: I changed Landry's age to 17, which was her original age, because I felt like I could make her a more developed character with those extra two years of history behind her.

Kathryn of Conte stumbled through the forest, resting for a minute at a time at every other tree.

The 21-year-old had been traveling for days through the hill country with her 6-month-old brother in a sling across her back, heading northeast from her mother's fief of Kilsbye in the southern Hill Country near the border with Tyra.

Fin had cried, at first, uncomfortable in the heat and with hunger and thirst. But he was too weak to cry much now, and Kathryn was scared. She _must_ be near the river, she _had_ to reach it soon; the river, or rather some tiny, cold, clear tributary of the River Oloron, would mean life for her and her tiny brother.

_And what of my other brother?_ she wondered. When the news arrived in the night of her father's death, she had left Kilsbye within the hour, on horseback, with a little food, some baby gear and a change of clothes. She brought Fin instead of 5-year-old Land because she could carry him. Her horse had fallen to an arrow as she gallopped out of the fort, but, miracle of miracles, she and Fin had eluded capture.

The arrow proved to her one thing: she had been right to leave when she did. The whispered rumors in the scattered towns where she stopped for bread left no doubt: her father dead, two brothers dead, most of Kilsbye dead--_and probably Land_, her heart cried out for her chubby-cheeked brother; what of Alyce and Erik and Land?

But somehow, she and Fin were still alive, with no sign of pursuit. Kathryn avoided towns once the rumors got too intense. She felt safer, but she felt hungrier, too.

She stopped for a nap once the sun reached its zenith, crushing some berries she found into a mush for Fin before falling asleep in a shady thicket.

•••••••••••••••

Jerney Hawns felt a shock at the sight of the red-headed girl asleep in thicket; he hadn't seen another human soul in a month. The birds had told him there was a female human nearby, and he had come, disbelieving somewhat, to see.

And she was beautiful: her hair wasn't a brilliant, screaming orange red but a dark, rich one that he knew must have some other name. Her complexion was even and creamy, except her cheeks, flushed in sleep, and a sun-burnt nose. She was tiny, delicate, in a dress that was too big for her--had she lost weight? What was she _doing_ out here?

But after the initial shock, he took it as a matter of course, caught a string of fish, dug up some tubers and lit a fire a few feet away.

••••••••••••••

Kathryn awoke in the early evening to the smell of woodsmoke and brushed her auburn hair away from her Conte-blue eyes. _I should do something about my hair,_ she thought. _This color is too obvious._

Fin stirred beside her and cried faintly. She wondered where the smell was coming from, a beautiful smell of fish roasting in a woodsy fire. _Fish mean water_, she thought. _Cooked fish mean people._

She peered carefully out of the thicket. A broad-shouldered young man about her own age was bent over a guitar, apparently making repairs. His short, straw-colored hair was roughly cut, and he wore a coarse tunic and beat-up trousers. An eagle feather was stuck behind his left ear, and all sorts of birds gathered in the trees overhead.

_He must be some kind of lunatic forest man_, Kathryn though. _Or maybe--maybe one who can speak to animals, like Grandfather Roald told me of Lady Daine long ago. _She swallowed. _I may as well come out, because Fin will waste away without help, and so will I._

She gathered her brother in her arms and crept out of the thicket.

"Hello?"

He looked up at her; his eyes were such a dark brown that they seemed black. He licked his lips. Was he nervous?

"Hey there, miss," he drawled in a the accent of rural south Tortall. "The name's Jerney--Jerney Hawns. I reckon you and the young'un there is mighty hungry."

"Oh--yes!" she almost leapt toward him in anticipation, but at the last minute she remembered her manners.

She groped for an alias, but all she could come up with, staring at the roasting fish and tubers, was: "I'm--I'm--I'm Katy."

He raised an eyebrow. "Good to meet you, Katy."

"Fi--My br--my son--Jims--he's so hungry--can you help us?"

Jerney grinned. "Well, lady, there's not much I can tell y'bout babies, but I reckon you can mash up some of these tubers here into something what's passable enough for him, and mayhaps some of this fish, too. It's about done."

The next several minutes were spent in silence as Kathryn mushed up some of the softened tubers and roasted fish in a small bowl and fed it to Fin while sating her own hunger with huge, burning bites when she got the chance. She filled Fin's bottle with some water Jerney had and drained the rest of his canteen.

"I'm sorry!" she gasped when she realized what she had done.

Jerney grinned again, a slow, charming smile in his tanned face that Kathryn thought she might find irresistable if she saw it from across a ballroom. "There's a stream not 200 yards yonder."

"Does it lead to the Oloron?" She had to concentrate not to scream with excitement.

"It sure does, miss."

"Can you take me there?"

Jerney laughed. "How's about I take you there on the morrow, miss?"

"But--"

"It's nigh on dark, and your baby there will be wanting to sleep with his tummy all full," he said. "And something else: I have a canoe there. I reckon that once you get to the stream, you'll be wanting to go on to the river, and thus to some city in the north--you don't have to tell me, miss, but your accent says enough--and that's a journey better began in the morning."

_A canoe._ Kathryn though. _Days off my trip. Who is this man? Why was he helping her?_

"Alright," she said. "One question before bed, then?"

Jerney nodded.

"Have you any news? I'm afraid I've been rather out of touch lately."

"I'm sorry, but I haven't seen or spoken to another person in a month or more, ma'am," Jerney said with a shake of his head.

Kathryn grinned. _That's the best news I've heard in days_, she thought as she shook Jerney's hand and returned with Fin to her thicket.


	6. A Royal Encounter

•••••••••Disclaimer: I don't own any of Tamora Pierce's characters, places or other plot elements. •••••••••

Landry Kemper yawned, stretched and swung herself out of bed. It was seven in the morning on her tenth day in Corus, and like most mornings so far, she was heading to the roof of the Dancing Dove to practice knife fighting and hand-to-hand combat with Ruil.

She had been surprised to learn that the King of Thieves was closer to 30 than he looked. She supposed the life of a thief was difficult.

After fighting practice and a quick breakfast, Landry headed out on the town. Not satisfied with taking up Ruil's trade, she was still looking for a more honest job.

Unfortunately, she had no really remarkable skills or any work experience outside of the chores she did for her family and neighbors in her tiny coastal village: cleaning, weeding, babysitting and other mundane tasks.

She had tried the merchants' stalls two days ago and the uptown eateries the day before, but she had found few vacancies, so she decided to try the mid-range inns on this bonny September morning.

Dressed in a neat white dress that she suspected Ruil had stolen and a tiny amethyst brooch that she knew he had, she left the Dove and headed to a better part of town.

The first few inns offered disappointments, but Landry was more hopeful about the third, a bustling establishment called the Queen's Daughter located on a busy square a couple of blocks off Corus's main thoroughfare.

She reached the inn around lunch; it seemed to cater to traveling families and traveling men who preferred quiet evenings to the roaring din that filled many common rooms after dark. When she inquired of the busty, apron-wearing woman she saw hurrying from table to table, she was surprised to find that the woman, a dark-haired, harried-looking woman, was the inn's proprietor.

"The name's Rose," she said, "and I'll hire you, sure, if you can start now. Drexy just quit on me an hour ago, and I'm in a fix for certain!"

She explained the job as she led Landry to a closet for an apron. "Be nice to the guests, and don't break anything," she said. "If you have any questions, ask, but for heaven's sake try not to ask too often!" She thrust an apron into Landry's hands.

It was mid-afternoon before Landry had a chance to eat her own lunch. She had just put away her plate when another customer entered the emptied room.

"Good afternoon, ma'am," she greeted the auburn-haired woman a few years older than herself who carried a baby on her hip. "What can I get you today?"

"Actually I'm looking for a job," the woman answered.

Landry laughed. "I'll go find Rose," she said. "I'm Landry—I was just hired today, myself."

The woman extended her hand. "Katy," she said. "And this is my son Jims."

Landry shook Katy's hand and left to find Rose, who hired Katy on the spot.

"You look sweet enough for the folks who visit here," the woman said in her cheery-but-gloomy way. "As long as you have a place to keep the babe, you can work here. Just don't break anything! Be back in time for dinner for your first shift—you too, Landry-girl." She bustled back to the kitchens.

Landry turned to Katy. "Well, what will you do now? Are you from Corus?"

"No—I just arrived."

"Oh! Me too—not very long ago. Where are you staying?"

"I haven't even looked for a place yet!" Katy sighed.

Landry felt sorry for the girl, who was obviously unmarried and alone in an unfamiliar city with her young son.

"Why don't you stay where I stay? I'm sure there is a spare room."

•••••••••••••••••

Kathryn followed Landry through the streets of Corus, trying to pretend unfamiliarity with the city streets. After a while, she didn't have to pretend anymore; she had never been allowed to spend much time in this part of town.

She felt fortunate that her first day back in her home city was going so well. No one would look for her working as a waitress at a Corus inn, but she would still be close enough to see what was happening to her city—_to my kingdom_, she thought. _I am their queen_. She gulped at the thought.

The weather was perfect. Women hung laundry from lines strung between upper-story windows and tended flowers in window boxes. Men sat outside in front of their houses smoking, and shopkeepers kept close watch on wares displayed on tables in front of their storefronts.

When Kathryn saw the sign of the Dancing Dove swinging in the light breeze a block away, a lump of dread formed in her throat. _So that is the King's outpost,_ she thought. She knew about Ruil Carpenter and his underground kingdom, of course, as the heir to the throne, but she had never met him. And she knew Sir Alanna the Lioness had befriended and later married a man who was King of Thieves fifty years before, and well, in fact, her great-grandfather Jonathan had been his friend, too, but since then, none of the nobles had been involved in the affairs of the underground Court as far as she knew. And something told her the Dancing Dove was where Landry stayed.

•••••••••••••••••

Ruil Carpenter's eyes widened a little when he saw the delicate, auburn-haired woman walk through the door of the Dancing Dove behind Landry. He rose from his throne to go meet her, but Landry was already halfway across the room.

"Ruil!" she said when she reached his table. "I got a job! And this is my coworker, Katy. She just arrived here, too, and I told her we might have a room for her here. Katy, this is Ruil," she added.

"Katy" was peering intently at him. _Ahh, so she knows who I am,_ he thought. _But she doesn't know I know about her, methinks_.

"Welcome, Katy," Ruil said, offering his hand. "I think we have a room here for you. Perhaps we can even—ah—acquire a cradle for your use."

_This must be Fin,_ he thought. He grabbed the baby's chubby hand. "Nice-looking babe you have here. Is he yours?"

The princess smiled. "Yes," she said. "He is—thank you. And thank you for your hospitality—how much will it be?"

"Old Saturn will take care of all that stuff, lass," Ruil said. "Landry, would you mind fetching him? I'll show Katy here to her room."

"Sure, Ruil." She walked off in search of the old man.

"So how long have ye been in Corus, majesty?" Ruil asked quietly as he and Katy ascended the steep staircase at the back of the room.

He had to catch the princess—_Queen!—_as she stumbled and almost fell down the stairs. She wrenched herself away from him.

"I arrived today, _majesty_," she answered frostily.

Ruil laughed. "No need to be chill with me, lass," he said. "Your secret is safe enough."

"What secret?" Landry asked as she ran up the stairs to catch up with them, leaving Saturn panting at the bottom.


	7. Disagreements and Revelations

This chapter is dedicated to FireFaery15, who added my story to her alerts. And now I'm going to beg, people. Please review! I know some people read this from the stats! I would love some feedback, and it would encourage me to write more often! I'm kind of busy but I could definitely write more often if I had more incentive than my personal motivation!

•••••Disclaimer: I don't own Tamora Pierce's characters, settings or other plot elements!•••••

P.S. I don't remember what number the first King Roald in the books, Jonathan's dad, was, so I'm just putting a random number here for the current faux-King Roald. I don't feel like searching through the books tonight. Enlighten me if you wish.

•••••••••••••••••

Landry stormed into her room and slammed the door behind her. She leaned back against it, steaming. _I do _not_ want to share a room with that _woman she thought.

Ruil had just told her that Katy and Jims would be moving into her room. His reasoning was good; an envoy of his men from Port Caynn were coming to support him in the underground war centered on the streets of Corus and needed space for them; but she still wasn't happy about it and hadn't been able to resist arguing vehemently.

_Like a child_, she thought grumpily.

Over the past two weeks, Landry had realized she did not like Katy. She was so guarded and defensive, and Landry suspected she was lying about many things. Katy was so prickly! Anything Ruil or Katy or anybody else at the Dove said to her, Katy's hackles went up. Just the other day, a bar patron had insulted Prince Erik—or King, depending on who you asked—and Katy had slapped the man!

And Ruil liked her in spite of all that! When Katy slapped the man, Ruil had leaned back in his chair and chuckled for a long time, and Katy had glared at him and marched upstairs. He _always_ chuckled when Katy acted like that, and he brought her flowers and jewelry and fancy dresses and called her _Highness_. She just glared daggers at him. It seemed to Landry that Katy thought she really _was _a princess. Hmph.

Landry sighed and began clearing her stuff from one half of the room. Katy was moving in tonight.

•••••••••••••••••

"I will _not_ share a room with that snooty little girl!" Kathryn shouted.

Ruil just grinned his infuriating grin. _I hate that grin_, Kathryn thought. _Why does he always smile at me like that._

"I will not!" she said again.

"Sorry, princess," Ruil said, still grinning. He leaned closer to her over his big table. "I need my men here. Surely ye know all about the sacrifices one must make for one's kingdom, eh?"

"_This_ is not my kingdom!" she exclaimed, her gesture taking in the in common room where they sat.

Ruil kept grinning. "That may be the case or it may not be, lass, but you're to go up stairs and clear out of the room right away. Now," he added, "you can always take to the streets if ye like, or see what sort of reception ye get at the palace, but that room will be empty two hours from now, princess." He sat down in his chair, long legs sprawling.

"Fine," Kathryn said through her teeth. She turned and stormed upstairs.

_I'll never get a moment's peace away from her_, Kathryn thought. _Always practicing her weapons or trying to learn something new, thinking she's so smart. I bet she didn't go past her fifth year in school_.

She resisted kicking Landry's bedroom door as she passed. She supposed Landry was in her room, just as upset, moving all her things to one side. Why must they be burdened with one another's presence? They worked together, they socialized together and now they would have to live together!

_I'm acting just like a pricness_, Kathryn thought, feeling a little ashamed. Normally, she didn't fit the stereotype this well.

She barreled into her room, and the loud thump of the door swinging into the wall woke Jims, who began to cry.

"Why are you so hard to take care of?" she exclaimed as she picked him up. "I love you to pieces, but I didn't know you'd be so much work!"

•••••••••••••••••

Ruil grinned as he watched Kathryn go up the stairs. Those two girls were just too much. He couldn't explain why they disliked each other so intensely, but it certainly was nice to have something to laugh at in these troubled times.

The smile faded from his face. The times _were _troubled. Over the past two weeks, Kilmeade's men had attacked him three times in the streets, once just outside the Dancing Dove.

Worse, he was tolerably certain men from the palace were watching him. Of course the Provost always had a man or two trying to keep an eye on him, but these men were different. For one thing, the Provost's men never _really_ tried to hide very well. They were perfectly aware that the King of Thieves was an important stabilizer in the city; they just watched to find out how loyalties in the underground Kingdom were changing.

These men followed him from rooftops and snuck around the Dove—actions that had led to the death of several of them. When captured and questioned, they died in flashes of sickly green magic.

Then, there was the warrant. _The King had signed a warrant for his arrest!_ Some king indeed, to be so foolish. He had shaken Kathryn by the shoulders for the stupidity of her brother, but she shook her head and said she didn't understand, that Erik understood Ruil's function as well as she did. Then she had turned quickly and excused herself to her room. Ruil supposed she had gone to cry.

With a warrant out, Ruil knew it would be best for him to go into hiding, but he couldn't! What good was a King of Thieves if he had to go underground to the underground? If Ruil disappeared, or even seemed to be contemplating it, his people would be discouraged. Some might even be discouraged into changing sides in this sneaky little war he was fighting. No, he had to stay here. But he needed more information.

Ruil went out into the streets and found the 10-year-old boy whose aunt was in charge of the palace servants. She wasn't one of his people, per se, but her brother Demus, the boy's father, was Ruil's man to the bone, so she did a favor for him now and then. He jotted down a note to her—could she find work for a girl he knew who was newly arrived in town? The girl was honest and nice and had some experience in service. Etc., etc., sincerely, R. He gave the boy the letter and sent him on his way.

Ruil had a plan. The offensive against him was clearly coming from someone in the palace; it was time he take his defense there.

•••••••••••••••••

Jerney Hawn's first two weeks in Corus were rough. He didn't much like being around so many people; they were everywhere, and most birds here were plain pigeons. Not that pigeons weren't nice, of course, but a little variety was always nicer, he thought.

When he arrived, Jerney went straight to the palace. He had worked there in the aviary once, and he was pleased to find that Micah, his old boss, was still in charge. Micah hired his young friend in an instant, and ever since, Jerney had helped keep the messenger birds and the nobles' hunting falcons.

Usually, a small boy carried the messages that came to the nobles, but today the boy was at home with his mother, sick, so Jerney was doing it himself. He was walking through the halls that lead to the royal chambers with a letter to King Eric himself when he saw the picture.

It was her! The red-haired girl from the woods! _What is her picture doing in the palace? _he wondered as knots suddenly appeared in his stomach.

He walked closer and read the plate set in the frame, his heart pounding. He remembered the kiss they had almost shared in the canoe on their way to Corus.

_Kathryn of Conte. Eldest daughter of King Roald X the Wise and his beloved wife, Queen Kinsey of the Fire_.

Jerney gasped. Katy! Kathryn! Why hadn't he guessed? He had seen her occasionally when he worked in the palace as a young teenager, but somehow he hadn't remembered. _I guess I didn't expect to see the Crown Princess in the middle of the forest_, he thought.

The baby must be a brother. Fin. He didn't keep up much with royal gossip, since he normally kept to himself in the wilderness, but he had heard of the terrible tragedy that had struck the family. So Crown Princess Kathryn was alive! And young Prince Fin!

Jerney hurried on toward King Erik's rooms. He wanted to tell the King the good news about his sister.

•••••••••••••••••

Lord Darryn was frustrated. He had hoped the warrant Erik signed would send Ruil Carpenter into hiding, making it easier for his own servant Kilmeade to gain ground in Corus, but so far Ruil had resisted. Several of his men had been killed, and several of Kilmeade's men had been killed. Things weren't going as well as he wished in the city.

In the palace, though, things were progressing better. Land was still wasting away, Erik was still under his thumb, and the other young royals who may yet be alive were still silent. Lord Darryn had managed, mostly just with smooth talking, to convince the nobles to leave poor, grieving King Erik alone and come to him with their grievances. For the most part, it had been disgustingly easy. He didn't smell a whiff of suspicion.

The coronation ceremony would take place in a couple of months. Lord Darryn cursed the tradition that kept it from happening sooner, but he supposed he must wait until then. A little more waiting wouldn't hurt him much. He had the rest of his life to rule Tortall.


End file.
